“I don’t think she’s lying about it.”
“She might not be. Maybe she does like being alone. The real question iswhyshe likes to be alone. And if you can figure out the why, and solve therealproblem, maybe she’ll be okay with letting you in. Besides, it’s only been a few weeks. People need time to discover what’s in their hearts. Look how long it took me and Tasha.”
Nik considered Mitya’s words. It was true that Mitya and Tash had danced around each other—literally and figuratively—for a few years before finally becoming an item, and now it was like Natasha had always been part of the family. For Nik, he’d been thinking about Jess all year, and had known since this summer that he’d wanted to give a relationship with her a shot once his tour ended. But for Jess, it had only been a couple weeks, and he’d been rushing her along since day one. Of course she’d balked at flying across the country to visit his parents.
Jess wasn’t forthcoming with information about her past, but she’d dropped enough hints that if he fit all the puzzle pieces together, they created a full picture. She liked to be alone because she was afraid of getting hurt. Why? Because she’d been hurt before. How many times had she said it, plain as day? “People are always playing games.” She thought he was going to toy with her heart then drop her, like the other guys she’d dated had. Or worse, that he’d up and leave, like her dad.
He had to let her know, in no uncertain terms, that she meant something to him. That he cared about her. Loved her. And he was willing to give it a shot for the long haul, however far she wanted it to go.
But how? He’d agreed to no contact, and he didn’t want to step on her boundaries.
The need to reach out to her, just to let her know he was thinking about her, that she wasn’t truly alone on this day, or at least, she was only as alone as she wanted to be, drove him off the sofa and into the hallway.
“Hey, where’re you going?” Mitya called, but Nik ignored him. His mind raced through all the possible things he could text her, from cute to heartfelt to funny. In the end, he settled on the one obvious choice.
Leaning against the wall in the darkened hallway, he typed out, “Merry Christmas, milochka.”
For him, it was the equivalent of “I love you.” She’d either get that or she wouldn’t. But soon enough, he’d be back in LA.
They still had a plan for New Year’s Eve. He had to make it count.
* * *
After lunch,Jess helped set out trays of cookies in the rec room for the girls to munch on while they played with their new gifts or watched the Christmas movie playing on the big TV. She’d helped raise the money to renovate this room the previous year, and every time she was there, she admired the changes. Before, it had looked like the common room at a college dorm—thin carpeting, ugly furniture that was sturdy but uncomfortable, an old TV that wasn’t even a flatscreen, and a DVD player that was always on the fritz. Now, it looked inviting and homey, with new electronics, comfy furniture, and a magenta and teal color scheme with ornate faux-gold accents. The girls loved it.
Since there was nothing else to be done at the moment, Jess selected a chocolate chip cookie and took a bite. In her pocket, her phone buzzed. Probably another “Merry Christmas” text from someone she hadn’t heard from since last Christmas.
She pulled out the phone and checked the text message on the screen. Yes, it was a holiday greeting, but this one made her breath catch.
Merry Christmas, milochka.
Heart pounding, she set the cookie on a napkin and opened the search app on her phone. She’d heard Nik call her this before, but she hadn’t known how to spell it.
She typed in “milochka means” and hit Go.
When the answer appeared, she got a warm feeling all over.
Dearie.
It was sweet, and kind of old fashioned, which fit the two of them so perfectly. Nik with his gallant manners, and her with her love of classic jazz and old movies.
Maybe it wasn’t over yet. If he was still thinking about her, that meant she still had a chance to fix things. After all, it wasn’t over until the final curtain call—in this case, Dimitri’s New Year’s Eve party.
“Miss Jessica?”
Jess shut off her phone and looked up. It was Tamara, one of the younger girls in the house.
“What’s up, Tam-Tam?” she asked, using the girl’s nickname.
Tamara gestured at a group of three girls fiddling with the sound system. “Can you help us choreograph a dance?”
“Of course I can!”
As Jess helped them put together a sequence of dance moves to a Christmas pop song, a few more girls joined them. And sometime between choreographing the steps and running through the routine all together, Jess was hit with an epiphany.
While the girls took a cookie break, Jess pulled out her phone and shot back a text to Nik.
It was time to take a chance.
